


and true plain hearts

by marginaliana



Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Christmas, Gift Fic, Idiots, M/M, TGS Secret Santa 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-14 14:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9187100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/pseuds/marginaliana
Summary: Jeremy bought all his Christmas presents for the year in one go.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to ShhNoOneKnows for beta-reading!

"Jaaaaames." Jeremy threw himself down onto the sofa of their new office. It was infinitely more comfortable than the old lump they'd had in the portakabin at Dunsfold; if he had only one thing to say in Amazon's favor, it would be that they certainly knew how to kit out a space.

"Oh, Christ, what now?" James said, but since he tended to say this quite often, Jeremy paid it no mind.

"I need help," he said.

"Yes, I'm aware," said James dryly.

"Ha bloody ha. Are you going to help me or not, then?"

"Hmm," James said, but he set down his phone. "All right, I suppose I can give you the benefit of my wisdom, though I don't know how much of it will penetrate your thick skull. What do you need help with?"

"I need to buy someone a Christmas present. A romantic present." Her name was Anne and she was a friend of Stephen's, but it didn't seem like a good idea to tell James any of the details. He'd probably do something daft like go off and find her number and call her up just to tell her all manner of embarrassing stories about Jeremy. He certainly had no shortage of those – and Jeremy didn't need any assistance to embarrass himself, if he was honest. Anne probably knew how to read a newspaper.

They barely knew each other. They'd gone for coffee a few times, once with Stephen and once alone to a little lunch place where Jeremy knew they could keep it discreet. He'd enjoyed himself both times and he rather thought she had too, which was a good sign. None of it had been explicitly romantic, though. 

Hence the Christmas gift. Women liked romantic gifts, didn't they? He'd always just bought Francie cars and things like that – then again, look where that had got him. 

"Something that says, 'I'm interested.'"

"And you're asking me?" said James. "I haven't had a date in nearly a year, Jezza." He looked vaguely uncomfortable.

" _Really?_ " Jeremy said, and then when James' discomfort morphed into open irritation, "Nevermind, nevermind." He held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "Look, that doesn't matter. You're a sensitive type. Tell me what to buy."

"Erm," James said. "Well, poetry is always a good choice, I think."

"Poetry," said Jeremy thoughtfully. "That could do quite nicely. But which?" He didn't know much about Anne's literary preferences – they'd mainly talked about other things, tv and music and travel.

"I'd recommend against buying something that starts with 'There once was a man from Nantucket,'" James said solemnly. 

Jeremy swatted him on the arm and James cracked into his bray of a laugh. "You twat," Jeremy said, but he couldn't help but smile a little. James' ridiculous laughter was always a bit contagious.

"Seriously, though," James said, when he got himself under control again, "there's a new illustrated edition of John Donne that might do the trick. I've been thinking of getting it myself, actually."

"Yeah, all right," Jeremy said. "That'll do." He had a vague sense that Donne was romantical – all those thees and thous. "Cheers." 

They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, then James offered him a faint smile. He said, "So what do you really make of that new BMW, then?" and Jeremy seized on the change of topic gratefully.

\---

It came back to him later, when he was sitting at his desk at home, trying to write a column – that comment of James' about not having had a date in nearly a year. It was curiously specific and Jeremy couldn't help but turn it over in his head. He couldn't remember James being any crankier than usual back then, so perhaps the break up had been mutual. Then again, he wasn't sure that he'd have noticed anything at all about James then, since that was when everything had gone tits up. 

_Fuck_ , Jeremy thought. His heart sank as realization hit. _I definitely torpedoed James' social life._ Normally this wasn't the sort of thing that he would have worried about. He might even have thought of it with a certain amount of glee. And yet to have had it happen just when he'd ruined all sorts of other things somehow made it genuinely awful to contemplate. 

_I'll have to be extra nice to him for a while to make up for it. If anything can make up for it._

\---

It was difficult to be nice to James. In part because Jeremy found it difficult being nice to anyone, but also because James was strangely opaque when it came to what he actually wanted. He might gaze lovingly at a gorgeously-restored 1960s Aston, but then when your back was turned he'd buy an old lump of tin off ebay, like as not, and disappear into his garage for days on end turning it into something that looked vaguely like a motorcycle. Or he might defend the placement of a mediocre segment nearly to the death, then give in gracelessly, but when they came out of the editing suite Jeremy would realize that some other segment of James' had ended up in pride of place and he had no idea how it had even happened.

Jeremy generally dealt with this by just not thinking about what James wanted and doing what _he_ wanted instead, which had a certain amount of success, as a life strategy. But that didn't make it any easier to be nice to James when he actually wanted to be nice for once. 

He tried arguing less, which didn't work because James was so often so deeply wrong that Jeremy had no choice other than to leap in to correct him. He tried listening attentively to James rambling on about bikes with Richard, which didn't work because bike talk was intensely boring. He even thought of setting James up with someone, but when he tried to sound him out about his preferences James looked so alarmed that he dropped the subject.

Eventually he fell back on just bringing James a cup of tea when he thought of it. Which wasn't really proportional to the offense, but since James didn't even seem to be particularly conscious of the offense, it would have to do.

\---

A few weeks passed and Christmas began to approach rapidly. Jeremy bought all his presents for the year in one go – another perk of working for Amazon, free two day shipping – and then dedicated a Saturday afternoon on the rug in front of the fire to wrapping them. There was a tractor calendar for Richard as well as a proper gift, a small painting he'd seen in Italy that reminded him of Richard's own work; a CD for Andy of a new band that he'd just discovered; a new book on airplanes for James; the Donne for Anne, though he wasn't exactly sure when he'd be seeing her next; electronic things for his kids, various chocolates and tokens for the crew (they'd get cash, too). 

The wrapping, as usual, took ages. He always started with the best of intentions, but by the time he was hitting the last few presents it was always a scrum of paper and tape and too-short ribbons. One year he'd bought a set of gift bags and 27 acres of tissue paper and done it all that way, but it had been awkward to carry them all around since he couldn't stack them, and anyway it hadn't looked right. Christmas presents were meant to be wrapped with bows on – that was just the inescapable truth of it.

At last he had everything done, all piled in a haphazard heap on the coffee table. Jeremy went to award himself with a congratulatory scotch; when he came back, he realized that he'd forgotten to label them, but the prospect of opening everything up and wrapping them again was daunting, and anyway he reasoned that he'd be able to tell which one was which from the size and shape.

_Here's to a job well done,_ he thought, and raised his glass in a toast to himself.

\---

On Friday they were in the office, although they were only a day away from the holiday party so Jeremy anticipated not much work was actually going to get done. He'd brought all his presents for the office crew today, since he'd likely be too sloshed to even remember to give them out at the party and anyway he liked seeing people open things. As opposed to peering dimly at them opening things while loud disco music played.

When he arrived, though, James was the only one there – early for once, sat at one end of the office sofa with a mug of tea on the table beside him, doing something on his phone. 

"I suppose I'd better give this to you now," Jeremy said. "Since you'll be as rat-arsed as I will at the party tomorrow." He tugged James' present out of his bag and tossed it over. James looked up, startled, and was only just in time to grab it out of the air before it hit him in the face. 

"Oh, Santa, you do spoil me," he said sarcastically, but there was a smile twisting up the corners of his mouth. He set his phone aside. Jeremy slumped down beside him and watched as James slipped one finger under the flap at the end of the package, levering the tape up. James always opened presents like this, as if they contained the secrets of the universe and he had to make sure they didn't get damaged. 

He got the end bit undone at last and unfolded it ('uncrinkled it' was probably more accurate) and then went for the seam across the back where Jeremy had a tendency to use one long strip of tape down the entire length of the package. Then he rotated the whole thing and uncrinkled the other end, and then at last, just when Jeremy was beginning to get genuinely impatient, he pulled the paper back to reveal the book.

The book, which was not about airplanes.

_Oh, damn it all, I must've grabbed the wrong one_ , Jeremy thought. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything at all, James kissed him.

It took Jeremy a long, stupid moment to twig to what was happening, so unexpected was it. It was a warm kiss, soft but for the shivery rasp of James' stubble at the corner of his mouth. Jeremy put his hand out to steady himself and realized only too late that it had landed on James' knee. James gasped, swayed closer as if to deepen the kiss and then sighed and pulled away with obvious reluctance. Somewhere along the way James had closed his eyes and he opened them now, favoring Jeremy with a warm expression.

Jeremy gaped at him, unable to say a single word, and after a moment James' expression began to shade into apprehension."Too quick?" James said.

What Jeremy ought to have said was, "I'm terribly sorry, I appear to have given you the wrong present."

What he actually said was, "I— well— I didn't expect you'd kiss me."

Which was… not untrue.

"I may have been thinking about it," James said, with a shy smile. "When you asked me about what present to choose, I suppose I couldn't help…" He trailed off, but Jeremy could finish the sentence in his head. 'Hoping.'

_Oh, god._

"James…" 

"And then, with the tea and the—" He ducked his head, then leaned up and kissed Jeremy again, a quick press of lips that left Jeremy's stomach squirming.

"I know what you're going to say," James said, when he pulled away. "We shouldn't do this here. You're right, of course. Come to mine later?"

Jeremy was beginning to feel like even more of a bastard than usual. "James…"

The door banged open and Richard came in, whistling. Jeremy felt relieved and then resentful and then confused as to why he was resentful, and then Richard started talking and Jeremy felt relieved again, because it meant that he could stop thinking about it.

\---

He managed to get through the rest of the day without panicking, but only by pushing the whole thing out of his mind entirely to focus on the work. This was difficult, because periodically he'd have to talk to James and their eyes would meet, and suddenly Jeremy would find he had absolutely no idea what he'd even been saying. He got away with it, but probably only because Andy and Richard and the office crew all thought he was an idiot anyway. 

He gave out the other presents over the course of the day when he had the chance. Richard rolled his eyes at the tractor calendar but hung it in his corner of the office and then asked innocently what James had got. Jeremy just said, "Oh, something dull about aircraft." Richard snorted, and only then did Jeremy let himself meet James' gaze across the table.

When they were finally done for the day they all gathered up their things. James came and stood beside him under cover of putting on his coat. "Back to mine?" he said.

Jeremy nodded helplessly.

\---

In the car on the way to Hammersmith he let himself face it square on. 

Why on earth hadn't he corrected James' misapprehension about the gift? Why was he driving to James' house now, when he knew it was going to lead to something awkward? 

Why had he let James kiss him the second time?

The last one was the easiest to answer – because the first kiss had been bloody good. Better than a lot of the kisses he'd had in his life. He hadn't even minded that James was a man because it was _James_ , someone more familiar to him than any woman he'd ever known. Because he knew every crease in James' face, the shape of his hands, the sound of his laugh. And that explained the rest of it, too – because he hadn't wanted to see disappointment on that face. It was one thing to do it for comedic purposes on camera. It would be another thing entirely to take away something James had obviously wanted for a long time.

_Oh, Christ_ , Jeremy thought. _I'm actually sort of in love with him._ He very carefully did not run himself into a lamppost at this revelation.

It was outrageous, the idea that he could be in love with James. Ridiculous. Absurd. It simply shouldn't be allowed. And yet here he was, driving to Hammersmith fully knowing that he was going to have to kiss a man. Possibly even do more than kiss him. Knowing that it was very likely he was going to enjoy it.

This probably meant that he was, at the very least, a little bit bisexual. This bore further consideration, but perhaps not just at the moment. Because that was James' street up ahead, and he had to decide now whether he was going to turn in and see where things went, blundering his way through the bits he didn't understand, or carry on past to something more familiar, something safer.

This was Jeremy; he turned in.

He was there first, of course, but he'd only just turned off the engine and got out when James' Panda turned the corner; James must have been driving much more quickly than usual. Jeremy allowed himself a short moment of quiet, wild-eyed panic while James parked, but he had himself under control by the time they met at the bottom of the walk. James didn't say anything, but the look in his eye was luminous. 

Inside they shucked their coats and shoes nearly in unison. There was a soft light on in the hall, just enough to see by but warm, welcoming. Jeremy turned to say something – yet another instance of opening his mouth and hoping the words would come out right – but James was already reaching up, cupping Jeremy's face in his hands and drawing him into a kiss.

It wasn't much like their previous kisses – this was a proper kiss, deep and seeking, unmistakably sexual. Jeremy parted his lips on a gasp and then found himself groaning as James' tongue touched his. His hands went to James' waist as if he could find something there to anchor himself with, but the play of muscle beneath his hands left him more at sea than ever. His head was swimming and they'd done no more than kiss, and hardly even any of that. 

Jeremy tore his mouth away, breathing hard. "James—"

"Jeremy."

God it was good, hearing his name in that soft, husky voice. It made his toes curl up. It made him want to do things he didn't even have names for. "I should probably warn you that I have no idea what I'm doing," he said. 

James went still. "No idea, as in—"

"Genuinely no idea," Jeremy admitted. "Not even remotely." He licked his lips, still warm from James' kiss. "So…" He wasn't going to say 'be gentle with me' because he did actually have a small amount of dignity left. Instead he said, "You'll have to show me."

James groaned. "Jezza. You can't just say things like that." His pupils were blown wide and dark. It was a good look. 

"Like what?" Jeremy dared to catch the hem of James' tee shirt between his fingers, hitching it up so that he could edge his thumbs underneath to touch skin. 

"Like you're waiting for me to ravish you."

Jeremy shivered. It was terrifying to say it, but he could do no less. "I— Maybe I am."

" _Christ._ " James leaned in again, holding Jeremy's face still so that he could nuzzle at the corner of his mouth. This was somehow even more sexually charged than kissing, perhaps because it felt like it had passed definitively into the foreplay category. Or perhaps it was just the way James touched him, careful, reverent. 

James kissed his way across the line of Jeremy's jaw, wet kisses that left his skin shivering in the cool air. He kissed Jeremy's earlobe, nuzzled it, caught it between his teeth and bit down carefully; Jeremy moaned, feeling the sting of sensation dart through him straight to his cock, and then moaned again when James released the earlobe to murmur in his ear with warm breath. "I want to— will you let me—"

"What?" Jeremy said, trying to keep himself from making wild promises. 

"I want to take you apart," James said. "Learn you." It was the kind of thing he might have said about a toaster, but Jeremy was reasonably sure the toaster wouldn't have the same sort of reaction he was having. Then again, maybe even a toaster would find itself popping up after hearing those words.

He tipped his head back and James' hands slid down his neck, thumbs curving over his Adam's apple and down into the dip of his collarbone. Jeremy swallowed. Maybe this _was_ moving a bit fast. But he didn't think it would get any less unsettling if he held back now. "Yes," he said. 

"Then come to bed," said James.

He drew Jeremy backwards into the sitting room and then past into the hall and down to the bedroom where it was dark and cool. His hands stayed on Jeremy's shoulders, as if he were afraid to break the connection between them, but he broke off at last to click on a lamp on a bedside table. Jeremy had no idea what to do with himself – if James were a woman he'd have been trying to get her undressed already, but somehow this didn't seem like the right tack to take. So instead he just waited, let James turn down the covers and do whatever pre-sex checklist he needed to do. 

It wasn't much – James turned back to him only a moment later, lifting his hands to the buttons of Jeremy's shirt and beginning to undo them, one by one. "I've thought about this, you know," he said conversationally. 

"Mmm?" Jeremy managed. He was watching the movement of James' hands, the long fingers deftly working. How had he never noticed how much those hands fascinated him?

"Thought about what you'd be like." They were so close together; Jeremy could feel how warm James was, heat radiating off him in all the places that they didn't – yet – touch. "Whether you'd be all 'powerrrrr'—" James swayed closer, rubbing the clothed bulge of his cock against Jeremy's for a fraction of a second and then away again. "Or whether you'd be all repressed British awkwardness. I don't think I ever guessed that you'd be so…"

"What?"

"So bloody sensual. Receptive. Like you're begging to be touched." He moved one of his hands down, curling it around Jeremy's cock and pressing down with the heel of his hand for one brief moment before he lifted it again to reach up and slide Jeremy's shirt off over his shoulders.

"Well I'd never have thought you'd be such an unbearable prick tease," Jeremy said, but it was a reflexive response and James just laughed, low and easy. He had the shirtsleeves caught around Jeremy's wrists and he used them to pull Jeremy's arms back, baring his chest. 

They kissed again, slick and lush. When James finally let go of the shirt Jeremy shucked it onto the floor without pulling away, then reached up and got his hands into James' hair to hold him closer. James moaned, licking into his mouth, scraping his teeth across Jeremy's bottom lip. It was good to kiss him, taste him; suddenly it made Jeremy more confident instead of terrified. He could do kissing – he'd _mastered_ kissing by now. And it was good to feel James shudder against him, to hear the hitch in his breath as Jeremy ran blunt fingertips over his scalp.

James was rocking them together now in a slow grind. "Jezza," he said, breathing the word into Jeremy's mouth. "Jezza, please."

"Now who's begging?" Jeremy said smugly, and when James tipped his head back in a laugh, Jeremy bent to lick up the side of his neck, picked a spot and sucked at it until he was just shy of leaving a mark. 

" _Ah_ —" James said, and then, "You would try the patience of a _saint_." He got his hands up between them, palms skimming over Jeremy's stomach and up, thumbs rubbing slow circles around his nipples until they puckered up and Jeremy had to leave off kissing his neck to groan. He'd never thought himself to be particularly sensitive there – but then again, he'd never had anyone who actually went for it like James did, so purposeful, so focused. James scraped blunt fingernails over him, leaving a sharp trail of sensation that went straight to Jeremy's cock.

Jeremy let himself stroke down the long line of James' back to his arse, feeling the shape of it, not so different from what he was used to. The movement brought them together in a new angle, though, and it was impossible to deny that there _was_ something different, the unmistakable evidence of James' arousal. 

He probably ought to be more alarmed by how not-alarmed he was.

He wanted his hand there, with no clothing in the way. He wanted to know what James' cock felt like, whether it would be like his own. He wanted to make him shudder and gasp and come – wanted to see his face when it happened.

He tugged at the hem of James' tee shirt until James let go of him and stepped back enough to pull it off over his head. Before James could step close again Jeremy reached for his belt, slipping the leather through the buckle and letting the ends fall to the side. James' breathing sped up. 

"Jez—"

"I want to touch you," Jeremy said. It came out rough. 

"Pushy," said James, but he was smiling the same shy smile that he'd worn that morning. He helped Jeremy unbutton his jeans and draw down the zip – more hindrance than help, really, with both of them trying to do it – then let the jeans fall and stepped out of them. In just his boxers and socks he was odd-looking, all knobbly knees and weird angles and jut of stomach. 

But beautiful.

Jeremy reached for him, smoothed his palms up over James' shoulders and then down again across his chest. James shivered, and Jeremy could tell it wasn't just because of the cool air. It was easy then to just keep going, down and down, to get his thumbs under the elastic of James' boxers and tug them away.

He barely had time to look, though, before James was kicking the boxers aside and reaching for Jeremy's belt in turn, stripping him out of his trousers and briefs and socks with tender efficiency. Then they tumbled into the sheets, Jeremy caught between cool fabric and the heated press of James above him. He was achingly hard now – they both were, and the space between them was sticky with precome as they rutted together. It seemed natural to let James settle between his legs, to lift his hands into James' hair and hold him close. James kissed him again, carried on kissing him even as Jeremy groaned and gave himself up to the feeling of skin on skin. 

He tensed momentarily when James slid a hand up his thigh, moving over Jeremy's hip and inwards. Would James want to— but instead James curled his hand around Jeremy's cock and his own, brought them together in a slow, slick caress.

" _Fuck_ ," Jeremy said, bucking up into the touch. He knew what a cock felt like, of course, had wanked himself enough times over the years to be intimately familiar with it, but not _James'_ cock, not pressed against his own, thick and solid and hard. And James' fingers, callused but elegant, careful, teasing. "James— Christ, that's good."

"Looks like I _have_ got a few new things I can show you," James murmured.

Jeremy huffed at that, but he was too pleasure-drunk to come up with a good riposte. Instead he reached down, tentatively putting his hand next to James' and trying to mimic his grip. "Ah—" James said, and then, "Yes, Jez. Yes. Just like that." His eyes fluttered shut and Jeremy took the opportunity to look at him shamelessly, taking in the softened lines of his face and his parted lips, red from kissing. 

He let James set the pace, slow and thorough, stroking down hard and then lighter on the upstroke in a way that gave him a shivery-sweet wash of arousal. It was thrilling to touch him like this, the velvet-soft head of James' cock against his fingertips, watching the way different touches made him moan or shudder or gasp out half-words of encouragement. "You're gorgeous," Jeremy said, almost in spite of himself, and he would have looked away in embarrassment if it weren't for the fact that James' eyes flew open then, pinning him in place.

" _Jez_." 

"I—" He drew James into another kiss instead of speaking, and it seemed to be enough because James responded passionately, kissing him deep and sloppy and slick. 

Jeremy groaned. His heartbeat was racing and his hips were rolling upwards, fucking himself into the curl of their joined hands. He could feel pleasure beginning to build deep inside of him, his cock throbbing and dripping precome onto his fingers. As if he could sense it, James stroked them faster, hard and urgent. Jeremy sucked on his tongue, bit down on his bottom lip and then let go and rolled his head back to suck in air as orgasm unfurled, spinning up and through him. "Ah—" he said, " _ah_ , fuck, James," and above him James was shuddering and moaning and coming with a desperate heave of breath.

\---

Later, when they'd cleaned up a little and were drowsing under the duvet in the dark, James said, "You know, you didn't need to make it so bloody complicated."

"Oh yes I did," said Jeremy, but he didn't elaborate.


End file.
